


Devotion to the Domestic

by onceuponamoon



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe, Domestic, Kid Fic, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-07
Updated: 2011-08-07
Packaged: 2017-10-22 07:50:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/235806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onceuponamoon/pseuds/onceuponamoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“This is the best decision I’ve ever made,” Frank says, licking the residue of the most spectacularly delicious plate (or three) of homemade mashed potatoes with brown gravy from a spot he’d missed on his inner wrist. “Seriously, if I had a do-over, I’d pick you every time, Gee.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Devotion to the Domestic

**Author's Note:**

> One of my dear friends gave me five words, a random word challenge if you will, from which to write: rotund, delicious, separate, brother, and bewilder. I honestly don’t know how this came to be from that. But whatever, have some kid!fic with a side of pregnant Frank, where male pregnancy is normal, I guess.

“This is the best decision I’ve ever made,” Frank says, licking the residue of the most spectacularly delicious plate (or three) of homemade mashed potatoes with brown gravy from a spot he’d missed on his inner wrist. “Seriously, if I had a do-over, I’d pick you every time, Gee.”

Gerard snorts, loud, abrupt and amused, and stands to clear the plates. “Oh, why thank you, Frank. Is that just because you knew I’d be a chef or is it my smashing good looks?” He turns back to face Frank, wiping his hands clear of soapy bubbles and water. He tosses the dish towel back onto the counter beside the sink.

“Personality,” Frank says, resting clasped hands on the protruding roundness of his belly. He belches and then giggles like that was the funniest thing he’s ever heard. “But then again, you’ve made Baby very happy.”

“Oh, I couldn’t tell,” Gerard says, smirking as he shuffles over to Frank’s extra cushioned chair. He drops down to his knees in front of his lover, placing a palm to his rotund stomach, molding it to the shape.

Gerard looks at Frank all _Please?_ like.

Frank frowns, all _No, not yet_ , in return. Frank grasps Gerard’s wrist and guides his palm a bit lower and farther to the left, right where Baby is landing some pretty serious kicks.

“Feel that?” Frank asks, peeking over his belly at Gerard. “I wasn’t kidding. Baby’s going to be pureeing my innards at this rate.” He speaks softly, still watching the absolute rapture on Gerard’s face, the kind of expression that makes Frank think that Gerard will always want another…and then another and another and so on and so forth.

After a few moments, Gerard finally looks up at Frank and the awe is still written all over and then he voices it with a gentle, “ _Wow_ ,” followed by a low, pleased hum. Gerard smiles and the expression is quickly mirrored by Frank. The funny thing is…it’s not even the first time he’s felt it. Not even close—it’s probably about the hundredth or so, and still Gerard is in awe. “God, we are so lucky…”

“No shit,” Frank says, shifting and grimacing. He settles after a few more seconds and runs the fingers of his left hand through Gerard’s hair. Then he pats Gerard’s cheek. “It’s your turn to get J into the bath.”

And, as if Frank had actually said it loud enough, J runs screeching into the kitchen, “I don’t wanna take a bath!” while he runs a few laps around the island and promptly exits.

“Shit,” Gerard mutters under his breath. He braces his palms on Frank’s knees as he stands, his knees popping back into place. “I’m getting too old for this.”

“Quit knocking me up, then,” Frank says, gaze trained on Gerard’s ass as follows after their three year old. “Sexy bastard…”

Frank bites his lip and heaves himself up. He makes it all the way to the couch before he’s too tired and out of breath to go on. Sitting down is a process—seriously, it’s all ‘throw an arm back, slowly bend at the knees, always brace yourself, slowly _slowly_ lower, don’t tip over’—in the same way that everything is a fucking process during pregnancy, a long laborious process, yet somehow Frank never ever feels the need to wallow with regret for even a second.

It’s like…he sees Gerard. And then he sees J and it’s just so obvious that he’ll never ever stop loving either of them. It makes this current pregnancy just _that_ much easier to bear (not that it’s been difficult at all, or anything.) And, as cheesy as it is, when Frank looks at J, he sees a product of their love. Like they felt so passionate about one another, loved each other so much at that certain point in time, still do, that they created a whole new life from it—a separate being, like J is physical proof of how they feel, like J is something that will bind them together forever, even if everything goes wrong.

Frank hears some commotion from his perch on the couch, jostling him from his thoughts, and then sees a flash of naked three year old before J lands himself in Frank’s lap. “Daddy! Don’t let him make me!” J squirms, trying to hide himself in between the arm of the couch and the side of Frank’s belly, his tiny naked ass in the air.

Then Gerard appears in the doorway, out of breath and clutching a little Hulk figurine in his left hand and there are definitely traces of bubble bath in his hair. His eyes laser in on J’s upraised behind and he starts in on him, “Jacopo Angelo, you have ‘til the count of three,” in his Serious Business voice—the one that makes J immediately cower with his wide doe eyes and, weirdly enough, the one that is basically an insta-boner for Frank because of the deep rasp and _shit_. Frank’s breath hitches for a second but he casts those thoughts aside to pull J from the crack of the couch.

“No no no!” J squeals, flailing his arms and kicking his legs with a force strong enough to cause Frank to very nearly drop him.

“You’re gonna have to work on your stealth skills, bud,” Frank grits, making sure that the boy’s limbs are far enough away from his stomach. His eyes flicker to meet Gerard’s, _I’m okay_ , before he hands J over.

***

Twenty minutes later, under the threat of no cartoons or candy for the rest of the week, Frank hears a considerably lesser amount of commotion. Only light splashes of water and Gerard singing the Get Out and Dry Off song to J. The kid hates getting in and he hates getting out, but he’d stay in all night if they’d let him. Frank doesn’t really understand it now, but he vaguely remembers being that way as a kid too.

Frank settles back into his millionth reread of the same paragraph, and doesn’t realize he’s dozed off until he hears J whining again, and then a thunder of his little feet before he flops onto Frank’s lap again, this time wearing his Spiderman (“ _Gerard, let him make his own choices. You can’t make everyone love Batman_.”) pajamas. “Daddy G says it’s your turn,” he says, cheesing up at Frank in that all too familiar expression. Seriously, it’s like a window to his past.

Sighing, Frank hefts himself up while J bounces in place and asks a million questions. “Okay,” Frank intones after he’s caught his breath. “Let’s get your teeth brushed, little man.”

J strikes this look of abject horror and Frank mirrors it back. J giggles and Frank does too, the sounds harmonizing. Frank reaches for J’s hand, glad that he isn’t old enough to think it isn’t cool anymore because he’ll be totally heartbroken the day that happens, and allows him to lead Frank’s waddling body back to the bathroom where Gerard has left J’s toothbrush all prepared on the counter.

“Do I have to, Daddy?” J asks, looking up at Frank with the most pitiful expression Frank has ever seen—seriously, all wide eyes ( _god_ , just _like Gerard_ ) and a quivering lower lip. Of course Frank’s heart crumbles, so he considers it for only a minute or so before he rinses it off under the faucet and sticks it back into the cabinet unused.

“Don’t tell your father.”

J giggles and puts one finger to his lips. Frank grins down at him, soft like he can’t help it, and turns off the bathroom light.

***

Their bed looks far too enticing. Frank has been standing in the doorway of the bedroom, one hand resting on his hip and the other on his belly, just looking at it, thinking about how good it’ll feel to finally lay down. It’s like the build-up before an orgasm—his eyes are all half-lidded too.

He hears Gerard in their bathroom, humming around his toothbrush and most likely shaking his hips to the music he hears in his head, but that’s only an undercurrent to the holy glow that Frank feels emanating from the bed. Then Frank thinks of what it’d feel like to be _naked_ in those sheets he washed just this morning and he can totally feel his cock filling out between his legs. He laughs to himself.

“Gerard?” he calls.

Gerard appears, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He opens his mouth to respond but then he makes kind of a what-the-fuck face at Frank. “You okay, Frank?”

Frank laughs a breathy laugh and nods. He pushes himself from the door frame with enough force to supply enough momentum to allow him to waddle toward the bed with minimal exertion. He makes it safely and then turns to face Gerard. “Undress me?”

Gerard kind of narrows his eyes, suspicious and all, but he saunters over regardless and pulls Frank into his arms, snuggling them together as best as possible with the whole obstruction of the growing baby between them. He presses a kiss onto the side of Frank’s head, right above his ear, and then leaves his lips there. They stand there together, swaying, with their eyes closed. Frank loves it—being able to just rely on Gerard’s arms, just breathing in his comforting smell—but he also really loves to be horizontal.

“Gee,” he says. Gerard hums and Frank revels in the vibration. “Bed.”

“Fine, fine,” Gerard says, pressing one more kiss to Frank’s temple before he helps Frank lower onto the bed.

As soon as his back hits the mattress, Frank looses a groan and feels his eyes roll back as the pressure from his feet and back dissipate almost immediately. “Holy shit,” he says, just taking a minute to breathe. “This is like—better than sex.”

He hears Gerard make a jealous, objecting sound, but when Frank opens his eyes, only halfway, he watches amusement dance across Gerard’s features.

Frank shifts onto his side, feeling a few bones crack as they resettle in this new position. He feels Gerard’s hands on his hips, long fingers caressing his sensitive skin and then the cool air of their bedroom as Gerard removes his shirt for him. Gerard bends down, Frank hears his shirt hit the floor on the side of the bed, and presses his lips to the curve of Frank’s neck. Frank sighs.

Then the lips are gone and Frank is cold. He whines and turns slightly to look over his shoulder for Gerard who is removing his own shirt and walking around to the other side of the bed. Frank bites his lip.

Gerard emerges from his shirt completely rumpled and precious looking. Also a bit like he’s just as tired as Frank. Gerard flops down on the mattress and Frank bounces. When he settles, he scoots closer to the middle.

“Pants,” Frank whines, yanking the restrictive elastic waistband of his sweats. Gerard lifts his face from the pillow and makes a contemplative face.

“J hasn’t been sleeping well lately,” he responds.

Frank really wants to be naked though. “Well how about you go check on him and then when you get back you can lock the door,” Frank offers. Gerard really looks tired but he also looks like he’s really considering it. Frank goes in for the kill, dirty and low. “I’ll blow you.”

Gerard visibly shudders and practically jumps out of bed, suddenly looking much more awake. “Be right back, don’t fall asleep,” he says as he rushes out of their bedroom. Frank hears him clomp up the stairs.

Frank’s eyes pop open when he hears the door shut, Gerard sounding a little out of breath, and then the click of the lock turning. He’s awake. He is.

Except that he makes a snuffly noise that totally gives him away and Gerard sighs. Frank is already almost back to sleep when he feels Gerard molding himself around Frank’s belly.

***

Startling awake from a dream he can’t recall, Frank makes a quick waddle for the bathroom and empties his bladder. Gerard’s still asleep in the bed—face half hidden by his arm, hair all askew and fanned out over the pillow, mouth open and emanating chainsaw snores.

Figuring he really owes Gerard, Frank works himself into a shirt and makes his way slowly to the kitchen. The sun has barely begun to shine over the clouds to filter into their cozy suburban home. The light trickles through the horizontal wood blinds, _tiger stripes_ as J likes to call them, onto the tiles and Frank nearly hits his hip on the corner of J’s “big boy” chair just looking at them.

As he’s preparing the coffee pot to percolate, Frank’s sleep-hazy mind flits through thoughts like pictures. He sits in his extra cushioned chair, trying to remember today’s schedule. But Frank has never been great at thinking while sitting down, so he stands and moves toward the pantry.

 _Cereal for J. Gerard is off. Fuck, coffee smells so good. Can’t wait to not be pregnant. Need caffeine. Oh, and a cigarette, fuck. I feel heavier. Doctor’s appointment at nine. J’s going to Mom’s, then Gramma Donna’s at two. What else?_

Frank practically jumps out of his skin when he feels little arms wrapping around his legs. He doesn’t curse though, so he counts it as win enough.

“Daddy, what’s that I smell?” J asks, smacking his lips and nuzzling into Frank’s right thigh.

“It’s coffee, bud,” Frank says, looking wistfully at the slow drip into the pot. He ruffles J’s fuzzy black bed-head.

“Can I have some?” he asks.

“Maybe someday, little man,” Frank bends down and presses a kiss to the top of J’s head. “Gotta make sure you aren’t short like me first.”

J lifts his arms like he wants Frank to hold him and—Frank hadn’t really gotten used to the fact that he can’t even pick up his three year old comfortably because of his swollen belly. “Honey, you know I can’t pick you up…”

J pouts, lower lip out and wide-eyed, but puts his arms down nonetheless. Frank waddles to the fridge, sighing, and grabs the milk. When he closes the door, he sees Gerard shuffle in, clad in old pajama pants and a crumpled t-shirt, black with faded paint splatters, just like J, and go straight to their son. Which is an amazing thing, in Frank’s opinion, because coffee used to take precedence over Frank back when it was just the two of them in their big old house on their own. Gerard lifts J up into his arms, letting him wrap his chubby little legs around Gerard’s side, resting on his hip.

“Morning, bug,” Gerard gravels, tucking J’s head under his chin. He presses a kiss to Frank’s forehead on the way to the coffee pot. Frank pours the milk into J’s little cereal bowl and then thinks about making a bowl or six for himself and Baby, but then thinks he can maybe get Gerard to make him a proper breakfast after he drops J off with his mom.

Gerard puts J in his chair and sips on his mug with his eyes closed, looking completely right with the world.

After his second cup, while Frank is wiping off J’s chin, Gerard turns and glares at Frank. “You didn’t drink any, did you?”

Frank huffs, “No, Gerard I didn’t.”

Gerard narrows his eyes and Frank cocks a hip. “Good, because I know you know better.”

Frank snorts and then starts to lift J from his chair, but then he feels Gerard step in beside him and let J down onto the tile. J grabs Gerard’s hand and lets him lead the way upstairs.

Frank waddles to the den, grabs the book he’d been reading last night and takes it back into the kitchen. He hears Gerard call out, “Be back in a bit, Frank!” and the jingle of keys and the door closing.

While Gerard is gone, Frank plots and prioritizes:  
1) Blow Gerard to make up for last night/make Gerard less grumpy  
2) Get Gerard to make breakfast  
3) Shower, etc…

The door opens again, sooner than Frank is really prepared for and he sees a whoosh of Gerard going for the coffeepot again, like he’s been so deprived even though there’s like a free supply at his shop so whatever, but this time free of J.

“C’mere,” Frank says, throwing his book onto the table. It slides off onto the floor and Frank really can’t care less. He makes grabby hands when Gerard turns and peers at him over the rim of his mug. Gerard smacks his lips and sets the empty mug onto the counter.

Frank juts out his lower lip and Gerard sighs, making his hair blow every which way. “What,” Gerard grumps, but walks over anyway.

“Why are you grumpy?” Frank asks, wrapping his arms around Gerard’s hips, pulling him close so that he can nuzzle into Gerard’s stomach. “I know you haven’t had any in a while. All I did was smell it, I swear…I was just try to make up last night to you…Part one anyway.”

“Oh?” Gerard says. “Oh, it’s okay. I know you were tired…”

Frank hums and then nuzzles farther south. “I’m not tired now…” he says lowly, turning his face to rub his cheek lower. He looks up and sees nothing but hunger in Gerard’s eyes. “Want to know what part two is?”

Gerard makes a breathy “Heh,” that is cut off by a choking sound. Frank smirks and grips Gerard’s hips, guiding him in between Frank and the table. He cuts his eyes back up and bites his lip, watching the flush of red crawling up Gerard’s throat to settle on his cheeks, and then reaches into Gerard’s pajama pants to grasp his slowly hardening cock. Gerard hums lowly in his throat.

Frank sighs happily, pulling it from its confines, and pushes on Gerard’s lower stomach to make him lean against the table. Then he presses his face next to his hand, nuzzling into the thin line of dark hair on Gerard’s stomach and then lower…and lower until his nose is pressed against the base of Gerard’s cock and his lips are soft against the sensitive skin of Gerard’s balls. Frank breathes in deeply, letting the musk settle in his senses before he puffs hot breath over Gerard.

“Oh…” Gerard breathes, rolling his hips along a wave of impatience. “Frankie.” His hands come to rest heavy on Frank’s shoulders.

Frank looks up, sort of realizing that he isn’t just doing this to make Gerard happy or less grumpy or whatever—he actually loves to do this for Gerard (regardless of the reason) because Frank loves how it makes him feel. Then Frank does something that’d be considered pretty dirty if he really thinks about it: he takes Gerard’s cock, thick and full and heavy in Frank’s palm, and rubs it over his cheeks, his chin, and finally his lips.

Making eye contact, Frank sucks the head into his mouth and watches Gerard’s face morph—pinched eyebrows, mouth stuttering open—before his head falls back between his shoulder blades and Frank can really only make out his chin. Gerard groans and Frank watches his Adam’s apple bob. “ _Ah._ ”

Frank is slow about it—he really isn’t in any rush—and deliberate, thorough as fuck just to see which all reactions he can pull from Gerard. He pulls off, wets his lips, and then slips his mouth back onto Gerard’s cock, tonguing the slit and then nudging it father back into his mouth with a bit of relaxing. Frank pumps slowly at Gerard’s base and fondles his balls while he suckles at the head.

“Frankie,” Gerard breathes, finally looking back down to meet Frank’s eyes. Frank tries for a smolder and feels Gerard’s cock twitch in his mouth along with a small current of precome. “Shit.”

Humming, Frank pulls off and tongues around. Frank hadn’t realized how much he’s been missing this—making Gerard shake and twitch and fall apart—on a regular basis back before they decided to have J and then have another. He makes a little promise to himself to do this more often and sucks a little harder, hollowing his cheeks.

“Frank,” Gerard says, sounding a little more urgent. His hips twitch forward.

Frank relaxes his throat and takes his hand from the base of Gerard’s cock to instead grip his ass. He nods and not even two second later Gerard is holding Frank by the back of the head, pulling him closer by his hair, and nudging down into Frank’s throat.

Frank swallows, simultaneously rolling Gerard’s balls in one hand and kneading his ass with the other. Gerard meets Frank’s eyes again, making this extraordinary pained pleasure-face. Frank swallows again and Gerard comes, groaning, “ _Oh, Frankie,_ ” like he’s dying and he loves it.

Taking it, Frank relaxes and realizes he’s also really been missing Gerard’s taste. He licks his lips and then dives back in to make sure he’s taken everything Gerard’s had to offer and cleans him up a bit. He tucks Gerard back into his pajama pants, making sure the elastic band in snug low on his hips.

Gerard is still panting, but he leans down, elbows resting on Frank’s shoulders, fingers in his hair, and kisses him all slow and dirty. Frank smacks his lips and tastes coffee and Gerard. Gerard pulls away with a slick noise. “Jesus, Frank,” he says, breathless and reverent. Frank wraps his arms around Gerard’s neck while Gerard gets a hand into Frank’s sweats.

He strokes maybe four times and Frank falls apart, shaking, not even realizing he was so close just from making Gerard lose it, and then he comes, sticky and hot against Gerard’s hand. Frank breathes hard against Gerard’s mouth and then presses a kiss to his lips. He smiles when he pulls away.

Gerard wipes his hand off on Frank’s thigh and tucks him away. Frank grabs Gerard’s wrist and pulls, pressing Gerard’s palm against his belly.

“Oh, my god,” Gerard laughs.

“You feel that?” Frank asks, incredulous and trying not to laugh too hard. “Baby’s a perve!” And then they collapse against each other, laughing like a couple of idiots.

***

The doctor’s appointment goes well, just a general check-up to see how Frank’s doing—if he’s still following the proper diet and taking his vitamins and supplements, if he’s having any distressing symptoms, if he’s feeling anything different—and to get another ultrasound. He’s doing great with only twelve or so more weeks to go.

But they’d finally caved—“ _But Frank, J’s been wanting to know and I know you do too and so does everyone else, pleeeeease? Can we just say we changed our minds?_ ”—and asked the nurse to tell them what they’re having. They’ve both had their phones glued to their ears ever since they’ve gotten home.

“Yeah, I know, Ma—“

“You were right! How could you tell? I honestly had no—“

“Mikes, Linda was right! You owe her twenty, bro!”

And when they finally run out of people to call (or really just let Donna and Linda take care of the rest of Jersey), they grin at each other, at the silence.

Gerard reaches for Frank’s hand and tugs him to the nursery where they sit and plan for the rest of the afternoon.

***

After a quick hug and squeal, Donna leaves the boys with J and an armful of brightly colored baby clothes. (“ _No, no, take ‘em! I’d bought ‘em before, and no one else’ll need ‘em! Please, you’re insulting me, Frankie dear._ ”) Frank couldn’t say no to Donna.

Frank looks up at Gerard, who is standing over the stove stirring a big pot of what smells like spaghetti sauce, and listens for J, who is, what sounds like, still exclaiming along to something educational on the television.

“Think we should tell him?” Gerard asks, peeking over his shoulder at Frank with an _I totally just read your mind, eh?_ expression.

“After dinner,” Frank responds, fighting a smile.

“Okay, call him in. It’s ready.”

Dinner is delicious, like always, but Frank and Gerard can’t hardly stop making moon eyes at each other long enough to actually enjoy it. But then J asks them why they’re acting so funny and they exchange conspiratorial grins and Gerard gives Frank a nod.

“C’mere, bud,” Frank says, holding out a hand after he scoots his chair away from the table. J climbs into Frank’s lap and rests a small hand on Frank’s belly like he already knows what this is about. “You know there’s a baby in there?” Frank asks, looking at his son’s face.

J nods, exasperated. “A brother or a sister,” he says, like he knows the speech is coming about how it is supposed to be a _Surprise_ so he needs to stop asking. The monotone he dons reminds Frank of Mikey.

“Which one do you think it is?” Frank asks, looking up to peek at Gerard who’s wearing an almost manic grin.

J grins slowly, seeming to really speculate since this is definitely something they’ve never asked him before. He puts his chin in his palm and taps his finger on his cheek just like Gerard does when he’s thinking really hard. “I think I want…” J says slowly before deciding, “A sister!”

He cheeses at Frank and Frank’s heart aches in a perfect way. “Well,” he says, grinning at Gerard and then back at J. “Guess you’re going to be happy when you get to meet your little sister then, huh?”

J jumps from Frank’s lap, face lit up like nothing else Frank has ever seen, and runs in excited little circles by the table, pumping his arms and jumping. Then he stops abruptly, rushes back over to Frank and puts his face to the side of his belly. “Hi, Baby,” he says excitedly. Then he looks up at Frank with a seriously concerned expression. “What’s her name, Daddy?”

“Isa Marietta,” Gerard chimes in, crossing around to kneel beside J. “Is that okay with you, J?”

J looks up at Frank and Frank nods.

J beams.


End file.
